


A day Without

by Floris_Oren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Laundry, M/M, Makka is a lazy doggo, Masturbation, Viktor is only mentioned, Viktor's Jacket, yuuri's anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: Yuuri is desperate for Viktor when he has to leave for business; but, Viktor's Jacket makes everything better.





	A day Without

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a cute story about Yuuri finding Viktor's jacket and wearing it and shit, but it turned into Masturbation fic which I hardly ever write, but ya know, that's where the story wanted to go.

 

Yuuri hadn’t known exactly what he’d expected living and training in Russia would be like; he did not expect Viktor to be gone for often. Which made Yakov take over his training. Viktor had plenty of money, he didn’t mind supporting Yuuri -who was used to far less fancy diggs than what Viktor kept. And so, these trips to do photo ops and interviews were normal. Especially since his announcement that he’d return to the ice to compete not only against Yuri, but also his student turned Lover. 

 

It wasn’t as big a scandal as Yuuri had thought it would be; moving to Russia to be with Viktor and train there together was just practical. Though, Yuuri had spent a month in Hasetsu training and packing. His things were few, due to his room being so small, but Viktor had incorporated everything Yuuri had sent. Even his posters of Viktor which  ‘accidentally’ - no thanks to Mari - ended up in the shipment. 

 

Now, the place is empty. Makka lies lazily on the green sofa after their walk. Yuuri had a simple meal of soup and salad and now huffs about the place. Bored out of his mind. He didn’t feel like watching TV, or reading a book. He couldn’t practice because he’d be over doing it and that was just a huge no-no in Yakov’s ice skating rule book. 

 

Yuuri took to wondering the place instead. Sighing. Yuuri stood in the bedroom. It’d just been two days and things were just a mess. Not that Viktor was a clean freak. But most of the chores fell to him for some reason. 

 

Yuuri sighed. Again. He gathered the laundry basket and took it to the kitchen where their two in one washer/dryer sat. He separated the clothing into dark, lights, and colors. The biggest was the darks so he put them in first. Set it to the correct wash cycle and put in the crystal washing solution. It may be late but he couldn’t help it. He was too used to Viktor being there. 

 

Or hsi anxiety just wouldn’t let him rest. Yuuri didn’t know which it was. Probably both. That’s when he turned to their gear. He liked to go through and deodorize it at least once a week. Viktor’s bag sat on the floor next to his. And out of it peeked a familiar white and red jacket. 

 

Yuuri crawled towards it and took it out. Viktor had worn this jacket for all their practices. And his. He did double duty. Sending Yuuri home when it was his turn with Yakov. Yuuri hadn’t seen his programs yet. He wondered if Viktor wanted to surprise him. 

 

Yuuri gathered the fabric to his face and smelled it. Viktor always smelled like lavender and coconut - along with his natural smell underneath. Even his sweat smells crisp. Yuuri imagines Viktor is there. Behind him. Arms circles about him. He moans into the jacket. Taking another deep smell. Letting his mind wonder as the laundry clunks behind him. 

 

His hand reaches into his pants to grasp his fastly growing erection. With the jacket over his face. Eyes closed, Yuuri does his best to simulate the way Viktor jacks him off. It’s almost real. If he imagines it hard enough. The Russian Accent filling his ears with words of a language he hardly knows. Viktor’s soft praise of him. Always the hand firmly bringing Yuuri off. 

 

He groans as he comes into his own hand and pants. He sits there. Hand glued around his soft prick. Breathing deeply into the jacket. Carefully, Yuuri sets it on the bag. He’ll hold off on that, until Viktor is back. 

 

Yuuri shucks his clothes off, he puts them in the dirty laundry piles and then goes for a shower. Feeling much better than before. 


End file.
